


The Boy In the Parlour: A Baby Puck AU

by CeslaToil



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Adoption, Baby Puck AU, Child Care, Fluff, Found Families, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 06:03:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9979640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeslaToil/pseuds/CeslaToil
Summary: Ford finds a mischievous creature in his thinking parlour.





	

There was a little boy sitting in his chair in the parlor.

“Um… hello,” said Stanford Pines, completely unsure what to say to this unexpected guest. The boy had white hair that was wild and as pale as moonlight, and a smile full of sharp, gleaming white teeth.

“You have a big head,” stated the boy cheerfully.

Stanford frowned at this rude comment. The boy clearly hadn’t been taught proper manners.

“How did you get in here,” said Stanford stiffly. 

“The nice man with the big nose let me in,” said the boy, who suddenly stretched out a pair of black, insect-like wings and began flying around Stanford’s head. All at once, the boy began asking questions.

“Is this your house? How old are you? Do you have a dog? Two dogs? Do you even like dogs? What’s your name? Why does your hair do that? Why do you wear that ugly sweater? How come you get to have extra fingers? Are you Mr. McGucket’s husband?”

Stanford blushed at this last question, and shouted, “Fiddleford! There’s a fairy running loose in the house!”

“I know,” called back Fiddleford from the kitchen, “I’m fixing him some dinner!”

“What? Why are you fixing him dinner,” called back Ford, who caught the giggling child in his hands and was holding him by the waist. 

“’Cause I’m hungry!” cried the child happily, and he took a quick nip at one of Ford’s fingers.

“Ouch! Don’t bite me, you little brat,” snapped Ford, which he only felt a little guilty about when the boy’s eyes began to well up with tears.

“Mr. Fiddleford! He called me a brat,” the little boy wailed, a few of the lamps in the parlor began to flicker dangerously as he sobbed.

Fiddleford ran into the room, shot a very confused and irritated Ford an apologetic smile, and took the little fairy child out of his hands.

“Now Puck, were you or were you not just flying around pestering Ford and biting his hand just a few seconds ago,” Fiddleford gently chided the boy as he hugged him tight against his chest.

“Y-yeah,” sniffled the boy, Puck.

“Now don’t you think that was a might bratty?” asked Fiddleford sternly.

“…. Maybe a little,” agreed Puck; the fairy child flew out of Fiddleford’s grasp and, gently, took one of Ford’s hands and gave it a kiss. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Fiddleford’s not-husband,” said Puck with a sweet smile.

“That… that’s alright,” sighed Ford after sharing a significant look at his partner. 

“Now why don’t you go wash up before we have spaghetti,” Fiddleford told the boy, who, after cheerfully shouting “Spaghetti!” loud enough to rattle the walls, flew down the hall to the washroom, leaving the two men alone.

“I know he’s a bit of a rascal,” said Fiddleford, who grabbed onto Ford’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, “but he’s a real sweetheart, believe me, darlin’.”

"How did he get here,” asked Ford, still a little dumbstruck by all of this.

“It’s a… long story,” said Fiddleford, scratching the back of his head, “Oh, but Ford, he ain’t got anywhere else to go. He needs a place to stay.”

Ford wanted to protest, but, something in Fiddleford’s eyes told him that there was no going back. Besides, even Ford couldn’t throw a child out on the street, even if he was a rambunctious, biting fairy.

“Well… I suppose we’ll talk things over at dinner,” said Ford, knowing full well he was getting into something completely out of his depth.


End file.
